


I Know Places

by niniandsoo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, KaiSoo - Freeform, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:42:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniandsoo/pseuds/niniandsoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein actor Do Kyungsoo is dating renowned architect Kim Jongin and they meet in unconventional places to avoid the prying eyes of the media and the fans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 60%

_baby, I know places we wont be found_

_and they’ll be_

_chasing their tails trying to track us down_

_-I Know Places by Taylor Swift_

60%

* * *

__

Rusty sheets of metal and scrap, high ceilings supported by old truss systems with moisture ever so slowly accumulating in between its joints and bends. Up ahead, the clerestory windows give the abandoned warehouse an eerie ghost-like glow, desolate, forgotten,  _perfect_  for illicit affairs.

 

Kyungsoo eyes the ceilings warily before he continues his trek up the staircase, one hand against the rough wall because he doesn’t trust the fragile looking railings, ones that look like they might collapse under just one touch. When he arrives in the roof deck’s door—the only one that seems new and undamaged in the god forsaken place—he takes a deep breath.

 

It has been two months since they last saw each other, but to him, it felt like years.

 

Unlike what he expected, the roof deck is void of junk and the crumbling structure the rest of the building is made of. Instead, the half walls look freshly painted, no broken glass or unidentified debris dotting the floor. There is also a table in the middle of it all, and just a few meters away from it, a trolley that emits a delicious aroma, he’s sure the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse normally wouldn’t have.

 

“I missed you.”

 

Kyungsoo yelps and nearly jumps a meter in the air when strong arms wrap around him and a chin is suddenly slotted against the crook of his neck. When he turns, it is Jongin, smile like a balm that soothes the yearning Kyungsoo has been suffering for the past two months they’ve been too busy to see each other. “Jongin!” he hisses, but doesn’t stop the younger from pecking him on the cheek, and placing a kiss on one of his eyelids, on his forehead, embrace tightening. “You scared me!”

 

“Did I?” Jongin mutters, a hand cupping one of Kyungsoo’s cheeks. Perhaps, the only upside to their frequent and long bouts of separation is that Jongin tends to get really hungry and for Kyungsoo when they reunite. “But I missed you, Soo. Say it back.” He demands before leaning down to plant another kiss on the corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth.

 

Kyungsoo breaks out into a laugh and kisses Jongin on the mouth, pulling the taller down with the sleek, black tie around his neck. Kyungsoo vaguely recalls it being one of his gifts, and he grins. “Missed you.” He breathes, giving Jongin another peck on the lips.

 

They just  _can’t_  stop kissing each other.

 

“What's the occasion though?” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow as Jongin gently stirs him towards the table. Fetching food from the trolley and smiling when Kyungsoo hums in approval as he fishes out platters of mouthwatering baked salmon and lamb chops, his favorite.

 

“Just a little surprise.” Jongin gives him an impish smile and sits across him, a bottle of champagne in hand. “It’s been two months after all.” He says as the tip of a shoe nudges at Kyungsoo’s ankle.

 

Kyungsoo grins as Jongin pours some champagne into his flute. Even though Jongin could have chosen a better place for his surprise, he appreciates the romantic gesture. It is nice, being with the younger after quite some time.

 

“Were you followed?” Jongin asks him sometime, when they’re tearing through filet mignon and the bottle of Cristal is halfway empty. “On the way here?”

 

“Yes…,” Jongin takes a sharp breath. “But it’s fine.” Kyungsoo adds on. It had been quite some work to get rid of Dispatch on his way to their meeting place, but it was nothing new to Kyungsoo. For every new tactic Dispatch had to tail him, Kyungsoo had another trick up his sleeve for a quick escape. It has been almost two years of hiding and outwitting the media after all, and he wonders if a time will ever come where they could go out and be merry in peace.

 

Jongin chuckles, the foot between Kyungsoo’s crossed ankles rising to his calf. “What? They think you’re dating some girl celebrity secretly?”

 

“Probably.” Kyungsoo shrugs, and smiles. “Ever since that drama with Yoona, I couldn’t get them off my back.”

 

Jongin hums, the naughty smile on his face accentuated by the rise of his foot in between Kyungsoo’s thighs. The actor internally groans. “Well, too bad.” Jongin murmurs. “Do Kyungsoo’s is mine.”

 

 

  
\--

 

The opening ceremony of the new luxurious high-rise apartment in Seunso-dong is something the both of them have to attend. When Kyungsoo arrives, a flock of camera-bearing reporters and journalists are already pressed against the barriers lined up on the sidewalk, bulky DSLR cameras frantically clicking away as influential people and celebrities strut the red carpet in pressed, tailored tuxes and fragrant perfumes.

 

Like a built-in reflex, his eyes search for the one man that matters the most, keeping his small, signature smile plastered on his face when he spots Jongin.

 

 _Well I’ll be damned._  He thinks, taking in the cut of Jongin’s form against the white façade of the building. His shoulders look broader than ever, the midnight black suit accentuating his narrow hips and lean physique, hair brushed up to reveal attractive features that make the nearby ahjummas and teenage girls scream. Perhaps they think he’s an idol or a celebrity, what with his charming eye smiles, casual elegance and magnetic presence. He looks like a model straight off an Armani runway.

 

He is devastatingly handsome.

 

He saunters up the entrance with his current co-star Chanyeol, face placid and cool even though he’s bursting with pride, looking up at the remarkable building Jongin had designed, with its perfect balance of catenary curves and edges, its lofty, almost spiritual-looking ceilings that promise a high-end lifestyle.

 

His heart skips a beat when Jongin meets his gaze, stomach lurching when the younger’s eyes trail down his body, as if he was being mentally undressed. Suddenly, he feels hot all over, only half-heartedly congratulating the owner of the apartment building because he cannot tear his eyes away from Jongin, can’t quite move or look anywhere else.

 

“Congratulations Mr. Kim.” Chanyeol greets, and Kyungsoo follows, their handshake lasting far too long, the touch lingering.

 

“This is a beautiful creation of yours.” He adds, keeping up a pretense of just meeting Jongin.

 

The younger peers at him through fine lashes and Kyungsoo knows this. It is the look Jongin gives Kyungsoo whenever he teases the elder and doesn’t make him come until he begs. “It should be, I took inspiration from the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

 

“And what is that?” Chanyeol asks, a hand coming up at the small of Kyungsoo’s back.

 

“A man, Mr. Park.” Jongin answers, eyes flitting to where Chanyeol’s hand disappears behind Kyungsoo. “The hard planes of a man’s chest, and the lovely bow of plump lips, especially when said man comes undone.” He finishes with a hard smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Jongin murmurs, eyes on Kyungsoo before walking off.

 

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s eyes trail after him, a quiet kind of bewilderment hanging over the atmosphere.

 

“What’s with him?” Chanyeol asks.

 

Kyungsoo subtly shifts to put some space between him and Chanyeol. “I don’t know.” He says through gritted teeth. “He’s probably just weird.”

 

 

  
\--

 

“ _What was that?”_  Kyungsoo hisses when he they enter the men’s room, having snuck out of the small gala arranged for the opening ceremony at his signal.

 

Jongin crosses his arms and leans on the sink, looking angry, lower lip jutting out and eyebrows pulled together in scorn. “Park asked, I just answered.”

 

“Yes, but you could have been more subtle!” Kyungsoo snaps, stoping himself from stomping his foot in case he looked like a teenage girl having a tantrum. “Jongin, we  _can’t._  They can’t know. No one can know.”

 

“Of course, _of course_. You don’t have to remind me.” Jongin shakes his head, “I mean, we don’t choose to avoid fancy restaurants or the movies for nothing.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs, shoulders sagging in defeat. Jongin has always been like a stubborn puppy, a little hard to sway, but nothing Kyungsoo can’t handle. “Look, Jongin…” he walks closer to the architect so that the tips of their shoes meet, Jongin’s breath fanning over his face. “We already talked about this, right? You’ve seen what they’ve done…to Yoona, to anyone else I’m rumored to be dating.” He rubs Jongin’s arms. “I  _can’t_  have any of that hate, any of the treats, directed to you.”

 

Jongin’s gaze begin to soften, and Kyungsoo mentally cheers. Perhaps, because Jongin never had it in him to resist Kyungsoo, who had been his rock and support during hard times, the man he pined for during their fifteen years of friendship.

 

“I’m so tired of not being able to do anything about your admirers.” Jongin whispers, turning them around so that Kyungsoo faces the mirror, the edge of the sink digging against his lower stomach. “ I wish I could make you wear some sort of signage, to tell them,” hands come up against the sink to trap Kyungsoo, and the actor’s breath starts coming in sharp inhales and stuttered exhales as the taller’s breath dances on his neck. “That Do Kyungsoo is taken.”

 

Jongin grips at his jaw and tilts his head to the side to share an open-mouthed kiss. It is lewd and hot, and Kyungsoo can’t help the excitement and anticipation surging through his veins at the thrill of doing something they never would have done, otherwise.

 

He spares the younger a glare when Jongin fishes out lube from his pants. “You anticipated this…” he says in an accusing tone.

 

“What? I’m wearing a suit.” Jongin says smugly. “It’s one of the rare times you let  _me_  do the fucking _._ ”

 

 

  
\--  


 

“See that, on the mirror, baby?” Jongin whispers against his ear once they’ve come down from their high. He’s still buried in Kyungsoo’s , skin a bit sticky from sweat.

 

Kyungsoo looks up, and he sees his reflection, the mess his hair has become, the flushed face, the sheen of sweat on his skin, the hooded eyes and swollen lips. He looks debauched, well and truly ed.

 

Jongin gives him a playful smile. “That’s the inspiration for this building.”

 

Kyungsoo slaps Jongin bicep weakly, smiling all the while when the younger pulls out and gives his a smack.

 

 

  
\--

 

“You have something on your lips.” Jongin wipes away the stray from Kyungsoo’s mouth with his thumb, pushing the finger past the actor’s plump lips so that Kyungsoo can lap at it.

 

“All good?” Kyungsoo asks, holding out his arms a little so that Jongin can fix whatever needs fixing.

 

“Your tie is crooked.” Jongin says, adjusting the shorter’s tie with a gentle smile.

 

“Yours too.” Jongin stays still as Kyungsoo fixes his tie, eyes taking in every aspect, ever feature of his boyfriend. “I can feel you staring you know.” Kyungsoo reprimands, although there is a telltale blush on his cheeks, his ears blazing red.

 

“Haven’t I always been? Staring, I mean.” Jongin replies in a dazed tone, eyes fixed on Kyungsoo lips.

 

This time, Kyungsoo levels him with a firm gaze. “Jongin, control yourself alright? No more blatant flirting, and please refrain from groping me in front of the cameras.”

 

“I will if Park Chanyeol keeps his hands to himself.”

 

“ _For the last time.”_  Kyungsoo says, hands thrown in the air. “Chanyeol is already dating someone else. And he’s whipped, so quit with the accusations Jongin.”

 

“Fine.” But the pout is back, and Jongin crosses his arms again, sitting lightly on the sink. At times like this, when Jongin’s possessiveness and stubbornness show through, Kyungsoo thinks he got a child to take care of instead of a grown and mature man for a boyfriend.

 

“No one can know about you and me, okay? As much as I want us to walk down the streets hand in hand for all to see, we  _can’t._  Not now, when I’ve got too many rabid fan girls who’ll tear down anyone romantically connected to me.” _Not to mention, the media_ , Kyungsoo mentally adds.

 

There is a pause, in which Jongin squeezes his hip and gives him a sad, wounded look. “Sometimes, I think you value your career more than me.”

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head, and gives Jongin’s neck a light squeeze. “I don’t value my career more than you.” Jongin raises a skeptical brow and Kyungsoo gives him a lasting kiss before leaning closer to whisper, “I just care about you, stupid.”

 

Kyungsoo leaves the men’s room first, oblivious to the man holding a camera, just around the corner.

 

 

  
\--

 

The Seoul skyline is engulfed in fog, grey clouds hanging over it at the brink of precipitation. It is dark and gloomy, the smell of damp soil and dank garbage significantly evident in the air. It strangely looks like a movie set for a horror or dystopian film, a picture of death just waiting around the corner, of gunshots and people you can never trust.

 

But life goes on, like it always has.

 

The streets still teem with traffic, blue-collared workers are still off to work and make money. Scandals and rumors are still conveyed through hushed whispers in dressing rooms and notes passed in class lectures, through the internet and overheard conversations.

 

With a shaking hand, Kyungsoo pulls out one of newspapers piled on his coffee table. On the front page, blown up in a size that sickens him, is a collage of pictures from his and Jongin’s (not anymore) secret meet ups.

 

 

  
  
  
**RISING STAR DO KYUNGSOO IS DATING PROMINENT ARCHITECT KIM JONGIN**  
  


 

He reads the bold headline over and over, insides screaming as eyes scan over the pictures. There are photographs of them holding hands, photographs of Jongin back hugging him, or him pecking the younger on the cheek, of them in stances far too intimate for  _just friends_.

 

These are photographs that cannot be covered up, cannot be excused as two men who really are just close.

 

Kyungsoo feels sick.

 

“How is everything going?” Kyungsoo asks Junmyeon, who has on his perpetually worried face. His manager had come barging in early in the morning to break the news, to warn him of the journalists and reporters camping out of his apartment.

 

“Some brands have pulled out including MCM, The Face Shop and KFC. Director Choi wants you out of his next drama, but someone else offe—“

 

“That’s not what I meant.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was asking about Jongin…what are they saying about Jongin?”

 

“Oh…” Junmyeon sits across him, expression cautious. “They certainly aren’t happy…that you’re dating. Much more now that…they found out you’re dating…a man.”

 

Kyungsoo lowers his eyes to the newspapers scattered haphazardly on the table, all containing printouts of him and Jongin. He does not understand why of all the people out there, nourishing love behind veneers of fanservice and indifference, it has to be  _them_  caught and revealed, for public consumption, for the vultures to devour.

 

“I suggest you avoid social media until this dies down. The fans reactions, their words…have been…unkind.” Junmyeon tells him gently.

 

Kyungsoo nods, the other standing up to check if the reporters have gone and left.

 

 _Just hold on. All this will be over._  He types unto his phone, sending it to Jongin.

 

 

  
\--

 

The abandoned asylum has water-stained walls and deteriorating ceilings, ceramic tiles chipping off and the only evidence of life ever having filled it being the bed with unmade sheets and the vandalism on the walls, one _I_ for each day a patient stays. There are crooked drawings of pentagrams and other symbols Kyungsoo cannot identify, disturbing messages crudely written in red crayon and pictures of imaginary friends—or ghosts, he doesn’t know.

 

This doesn’t bother Kyungsoo anymore, far too used to utilizing abandoned places ever since he and Jongin had been together.  When the latter arrives, they share an embrace, tight, warm, something Kyungsoo has craved ever since the scandal broke out.

 

“I missed you.” Jongin says for the umpteenth time in their relationship.

 

Kyungsoo realizes that there had been far too many I miss you’s instead of I love you’s between them in their relationship, and this makes his eyes prick, tears springing unwelcome.

 

“How have you been?” But he doesn’t need to ask. Traces of the past few weeks are evident. Jongin looks tired, eye bags dark and expression too somber. His skin is tight against his bones, cheeks almost looking gaunt.

 

“I’ve been fine. Missed you, but fine.” Jongin says, pulling him into a hug again. Kyungsoo’s heart clenches.

 

He came here with one objective: break up with Jongin, and with it break the younger’s heart.

 

And he finds that he does not have the strength to do what he ought to do. He can’t utter the words that he’s sure will crush the other’s heart into smithereens, doesn’t have the strength to look into those eyes, those eyes that look at him like he was the sun, only for it to drown in tears.

 

Perhaps a break up over text would have been better.

 

He’d know that Jongin is hurt past the pixels of his phone, but he won’t have to actually _see_ it.

 

“Jongin…,” he starts, and the taller let’s go of him, eyebrows raised. Does he sense what Kyungsoo is about to do?  _Maybe._  Kyungsoo thinks, if the hands tightening around his upper arms are any indication. “We need to—we need to talk.”

 

Jongin frantically shakes his head. Kyungsoo knows he isn’t stupid, he knows Jongin has already caught on to what he is implying. “No, hyung…” Jongin says, the formality slipping out fast. “I won’t allow you. I won’t allow it.”

 

Kyungsoo looks down, as if looking at polished shoes against muddy ceramic tiles can make things easier.

 

It can’t.

 

Kyungsoo thinks of all the comments he found online despite Junmyeon telling him to avoid it, he thinks about the people doubting Jongin’s credibility as an architect, as if affected the foundations of a building, as if liking fellow men would make beams crumble, a structure to collapse. He wants none of it anymore. He doesn’t want Jongin to be treated this way by the public, he doesn’t want Jongin to receive any of the hate mails he does, doesn’t want the younger to receive phone calls from sasaengs, threatening to slice his throat open or suffocate him.

 

This, is how he gathers strength for what he does next.

 

“Jongin. We need to  _stop._  We need to stop this.”

 

“Soo…no.” Jongin shakes his head, mouth beginning to tremble, eyes going wide, tears leaking at the corners. “No, I won’t allow it.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense Jongin!”  _Goddammit make this easier for me!_  “Whether you like it or not, we’re over.”

 

“No.” Jongin says firmly, keeping him in an embrace that doesn’t permit him to move. Kyungsoo wants so badly to stay, but he knows the opposite would be much better, for the both of them. “I know why you’re doing this Soo. I can handle it, I can handle what they say about me. I don’t give a damn.” Jongin murmurs against his ear, tone desperate. “Just please… _stay._ ”

 

“Jongin, I can’t. Do you know what they say about  _me?_  Don’t you have any idea how many endorsements I’ve lost, how they look at me on set _?” That’s right, make him think you don’t love him enough._  “I love you, but I can’t lose this. I can’t lose what I’ve worked so hard for.”

 

When Jongin cries, his whole body shakes. His shoulders rise up and sink down, and his face contorts as he closes his eyes and tries to take in breaths that come short, trying to hold back the groans that threaten to come out of his mouth from the pain.

 

Kyungsoo has always thought that seeing Jongin cry is one of the most painful sights he’s ever seen, and this is what he sees now.

 

Like what he does in the dramas and movies he stars in, Kyungsoo sheds himself and becomes another person. This time, he is Do Kyungsoo, a heartless and cold bastard, someone who will not be moved by tears.

 

“Please…let go of me.” He says in a firm tone.

 

Jongin’s arms fall to his sides restlessly, eyes on the ground as he continues to cry.

 

“Don’t expose yourself to the public, stay out of the media’s eye for a while.” He takes a deep breath, his chest physically aching. “Please, do not try to contact me.”

 

Jongin finally looks up, and this is when Kyungsoo chooses to look away. Because the hurt on Jongin’s face threatens to shake his decision, threatens to make him backpedal, and engulf Jongin in an embrace instead. “Take care of yourself…Jongin.”

 

When Kyungsoo walks away, he doesn’t look back, thinking that if this is how they end, Jongin shouldn’t see any of his tears, shouldn’t see any evidence of his lies. But perhaps, the one important reason he doesn’t look back, is because he might come running back to Jongin, to shower him with kisses and tell him that everything will be okay—more lies.

 

 _He’ll be fine_ , Kyungsoo soothes himself.  _He’s an architect_ ,  _he can rebuild whatever I broke in him._

 

 

  
\--

 

Kyungsoo has always had a routine of sorts. Every day, he wakes up at four in the morning, checks his phone before going out into the kitchen to drink a cup of coffee and review whatever lines he has to recite for his scenes later on. Thirty minutes of this, and he’s in the shower, then brushing his teeth, before he dresses up in a decent attire and waits for Junmyeon to arrive and fetch him.

 

During this time, he is usually on his phone, poring over various articles and reviews of his dramas and movies, making sure he improves the weaknesses the audience sees in him and dispel the criticisms the next time he acts.

 

But now that Jongin is gone from his life, Kyungsoo hardly ever touches his phone anymore. He doesn’t wake up anticipating what the day will bring, not when there’s no ‘Good morning’ message flashing on the screen, along with a dozen emojis Kyungsoo would never use.

 

He doesn’t have the strength to read reviews about his acting, not when there’s no message in his inbox telling him to cheer up, and  _just prove them wrong._

 

He fills the gaps Jongin left with more projects and work, because that’s the thing about the entertainment industry.

 

Bad publicity, is better than no publicity at all.

 

When Kyungsoo arrives on set, his chest is aching and breathing is somewhat painful. His eyes are heavy from lack of sleep, and his stomach grumbles for it to be fed. He goes through the first few scenes with a lackluster that’s never been there before, but on his sixth scene, just when he’s in the middle of talking to the lead girl, his vision goes dark and he collapses.

 

 

  
\--

 

There is the pungent scent of medicine and death, the silence in the pauses after repetitive beats, repetitive sounds of machinery in time to the breaths he takes, the pause and sound of his heartbeat. Kyungsoo opens his eyes to bright lights and white walls, and the worried face of his manager, Junmyeon.

 

“Kyungsoo, are you alright?”

 

His throat feels parched, tongue as rough as sandpaper, he feels weak too, but nothing can really compare to the gaping hole in his chest, a hole that cannot be stitched, will never heal unless it is filled with caramel skin and eye smiles, of passionate hands and a beautiful mind.

 

He nods.

 

He sits up, aching everywhere.

 

“These are for you…,” Junmyeon hands him a huge bunch of white roses, something he has a hard time wrapping his arms around. It is held together by a simple, white organza ribbon, ethereal, beautiful. “Jongin visited when you were still passed out and told me to give you this.”

 

“It’s beautiful.” Kyungsoo whispers, thinking how their courtship had started this way, of white roses and small sketches from Jongin, of little lullabies from the budding actor, Kyungsoo.

 

“It is.” Junmyeon pauses, eyebrows furrowed. “He told me that you should remember the meaning of white roses when you think of him. Soo, what do white roses mean?”

 

Kyungsoo cracks a small smile.

 

_White roses—means eternal love and devotion._


	2. 40%

_they got the cages, they got the boxes_

_and guns_

_they are the hunters, we are the foxes_

_and we run_

 

**  
40%  
**

 

  
four alternate endings were made. choose one, or you can have them all

* * *

 

 

  
  
**TO THE FOXES**  


 

The brand new restaurant in the most of exclusive part of Gangnam operated by Chinese-French model Wu Yifan and co-owned by famous composer Zhang Yixing is named La Reve—meaning, ‘the dream’.

 

Like all fancy restaurants with pretty, French names, the place is characterized by dainty, delicate porcelain and a refined air from its regular customers, as well as a menu worth jaw dropping prices ranging from the hundred thousand won to a million.

 

During the day, it is like glittering piece of diamond in the rough, an exclusive and luxurious haven for the uppercrust of the uppercrust, where they chitchat over 1998 Dom Pérignon and slice through foie gras. A reservation must be made a month ahead, otherwise, you’d never get in. During the night, the upper part of the building transforms into something like a club, hosting only the best DJ’s, complete with a star-studded guest list and spoiled, bratty youths, who have enough time  and money to waste on thousand won shots—all that shebang.

 

The ambiance too, emits a deceptive kind of privacy, even though most celebrities that flock the place know that they have to face the media and scandal-hungry Paps, waiting just outside the property line.

 

It certainly helps that the place itself is an architectural gem designed by none other than Kim Jongin—thirty-two year old architect well known for playing with geometric forms and soft curves, and for being top notch actor Do Kyugsoo’s beau for seven years and running.

 

It is surrounded by sprawling gardens reminiscent of that in Versailles, the building itself a stunning masterpiece of glass and metal paneling, the interior tastefully decorated by sculptors like Richard Serra and Anish Kapoor.

 

Somewhere in La Reve, in a private room he himself had designed, is Kim Jongin, on another one of his lunch dates with the man he’s loved for most of his life.

 

“Don’t forget, we’re staying at my parent’s house tonight.” He says, wiping the corners of his mouth before giving the elder a roguish smile. “Bring something to muffle the noises you make. Don’t want a repeat of the—“

 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo interrupts with an affronted hiss, jabbing his fork in the tanned male’s direction. “ _Don’t_ mention that ever again. _Please…_ ” he breathes, aiming a kick towards Jongin’s shin under the table, cheeks a healthy shade of rosa and ears burning.

 

Jongin laughs, face going soft and gentle as the elder pouts. Kyungsoo’s flustered face is one of his favorite things. It reminds him all too much of the time they had their first date, when Kyungsoo still had trouble looking him in the eye while Jongin did everything he can to impress the elder.

 

Or maybe, it reminds him of the times Kyungsoo lets him fuck him into oblivion, forehead sweaty and sinful moans falling from his mouth in carnal pleasure.

 

Jongin leans forward, tangling their fingers together and playing with the ring around Kyungsoo’s ring finger. His gaze shifts into something intense, the look he always has when his eyes are on the actor. Kyungsoo smiles, because it has been a tough seven years for the two of them, coming out to the public after getting back together and having to battle criticisms and discrimination, and yet here they are, engaged and in love as ever.

 

“I can’t wait for us to get married.” Jongin murmurs, a dreamy look crossing his face when Kyungsoo nods with a dazzling grin, lips forming a heart. “Although I think our honeymoon’s too short. Should we extend? Visit Romania or Prague? What do you think?”

 

Kyungsoo sighs, squeezing his fiancé’s hand. “Can’t. Jumyeon wants me back for another movie ASAP.”

 

“How come Junmyeon still gets a say on your schedule? _I’m_ the one marrying you, not him.” Jongin says in an indignant tone, although the playful gleam in his eyes says otherwise.

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Maybe because, he’s been my manager ever since I started acting?” A small smile slips and Jongin imitates a subdued expression.

 

Kyungsoo scoffs.

 

“Does it really matter? It’s not like it’s _really_ our first time.”

 

Jongin holds up his hand and kisses a knuckle, gaze hinting at sheepish with a touch of sincerity. The beginnings of wrinkles around his eyes become evident when he smiles, but Kyungsoo still thinks he’s beautiful.

 

Jongin thinks he’s still as gorgeous.

 

“Baby…,” he starts, a pause and then naughty grin stretches his lips. Something in Kyungsoo’s gut stirs. “Everything’s a first when I’m with you.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs when Jongin tops it off with a wink, a blush on his cheeks as he stands up to straddle Jongin and give him a peck on the lips.

 

“What are you doing?” the younger asks, hands coming up to cup his ass as per automatic. Kyungsoo revels in the hungry look that immediately invades Jongin’s gaze when their eyes meet, cupping the younger’s face, thumb tracing prominent cheekbones.

 

“You cheeseball…,” Kyungsooo whispers before leaning down to mouth at Jongin’s jaw. “Isn’t it obvious, what I’m doing?”

 

“What?” Jongin croaks, voice coarse and breathing turning erratic when Kyungsoo intentionally ruts against him. 

 

Kyungsoo smirks when he feels a bulge starting to press underneath him, pulling away so he Jongin sees the smug look in his eyes, running hands down the younger’s expensive suit.

 

“I’m giving you another first time.”

* * *

 

 

 

  
  
**TO THE VULTURES**  


 

"Babe, you're giving me a headache. Stop _fidgeting."_

 

It was meant to come out as a reprimand but Jongin just ended up sounding overly fond of the man sitting next to him. He takes the shivering hand at his side, knowing that the weather wasn't the only reason it had turned so clammy. Sehun honest to god pouts like the overgrown toddler that he is but thankfully, the comforting gesture was enough to keep him still.

 

"I haven't endorsed a Korean brand in ages, Jongin," Sehun says in disbelief, like he's been prone to do for the past six months since he got the offer. "America was great but there's nothing quite like home is there?"

 

Jongin hums into his boyfriend's neck, not wanting to ruin the moment for him. It was Sehun's idea of course - once they were properly together - to make the move to New York. At the time, it made the most sense. The Big Apple was teeming with opportunity, especially for artists like them. The move paid off, of course. Labels were drawn to Sehun like a moth to a flame - if not for his inherent talent on camera then certainly for his ability to fill in their diversity quota. Jongin had already made a name for himself back home, but had also made quite a splash in the New York scene. It was a brilliant move for both of them.

 

But for all the recognition and glamour that came with living abroad, Jongin knew just how much Sehun preferred the comforts of his own country. Which is why they're here now - not starting over again, per se, but merely picking up where they left off. Sehun's international fame has made him an even bigger celebrity before. It was really only a matter of time, Jongij thinks, before the offers would start piling in.

 

The town car turns a curb, sending them both slamming into each other. The sweet moment is effectively ruined but they merely chuckle before the driver is announcing their arrival.

 

Sehun brings their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to Jongin's knuckles. "Just - thank you. You're the one thing in my life I can count on."

 

Jongin's answering smile is blinding. "We're a team, babe. Of course I'm here for you."

 

And that's how they step out onto the red carpet. Together.

  
 

 

  
\--

  
 

Jongin thought that the first red carpet after they had come out was the most of the paparazzi he would have to endure. Apparently, his hotshot boyfriend getting an endorsement deal was bigger news than that, if the flashes going off are anything to go by. Times do change, after all.

 

"Are you okay?" Sehun asks amidst the chaos. His hand is steady on his waist and Jongin feels secure despite the fact that he seems to be temporarily blinded by white spots. He's sure he's going to end up looking like a dazed idiot in those pictures. He sways into his side after another flurry of flashes and Sehun begins laughing at him. He's barely fazed at all. What a showoff.

 

"This isn't in my job description, asshole." He tries to sound petulant this time, but it ends up sounding like an endearment. Honestly, what the fuck.

 

"Oh really?" Sehun asks and Jongin can’t see him, but he can practically hear the smirk on his face. "I forgot to put 'posing on the red carpet'? I'll have to redo those Arm Candy applications."

 

He gets an elbow in the stomach for that but they're both laughing and Sehun just pulls him in closer.

 

The flashes die down after a while and Jongin can just barely make out Sehun's face. He takes him to a corner of the red carpet where refreshments were available.

 

"Oh thank god, is it over?"

 

Sehun shakes his head. "I have to do a couple more interviews. Someone new just came in though, so that'll give you a rest. I'll come back for you in a few minutes okay?"

 

"Yeah sure I'll - "

 

The words die in his throat. He finally regains his sight only to be faced with the man he hasn't seen in nearly seven years.

 

Kyungsoo looks impeccable in a three piece charcoal grey suit. It looks stunning against the shock of red hair carefully quiffed on top of his head. He has his arm around a beautiful girl, who looks at him the way Jongin used to. With so much love and openness. Except, there are no traces of longing in her eyes. There's only security. And happiness.

 

Kyungsoo spots him after a while and the picture that they make must be hilarious. They're both just standing there, slack-jawed, until Kyungsoo approaches him.

 

Jongin's heart races just a little bit.

 

"Uhm. Hi." Is Jongin's grand opening.

 

"Hi" Kyungsoo says back.

 

They smile at each other, taking each other in and seeing what's changed. Kyungsoo's more muscular now and there's a light stubble on his chin. He's aged but he's managed to do so wonderfully.

 

"How have you been?" Jongin asks before he loses his mind.

  
"Oh you know, still doing what I do," Kyungsoo replies with a cough, trying to hide his nerves. "And you? How's uhm - was it L.A.?"

 

"New York actually." He corrects him and _what the fuck are they doing what are they saying_. "But yeah, it was amazing."

 

They're both quiet after that. They've never done this, is the thing. Small talk was never their forte.

 

"I just - I just wanted to ask you something?" Kyungsoo finally saves them both after the longest minute of their lives.

 

Jongin nods for him to continue.

 

"We were - we were good together, weren't we? Because I feel like I left things at such a bad note but you - you made me really happy, you know?"

 

Jongin's ears were ringing. This is it. They were finally talking about it. Kyungsoo looks so apologetic, like it's been eating at him for years like it has been for Jongin. He tries to find the resentment that he felt after those first few days when he left. He tries to find the anger and the hurt. He vaguely remembers a threat that consisted of a guillotine.

 

There's nothing there but calm.

 

"Of course we were. We were so, so happy." Jongin sees Kyungsoo smile sadly at that. Because they were, weren't they? "But we needed different things. We still do, I think. I get it now."

 

"I knew I never deserved you. You're too good for me, Jongin." Kyungsoo tells him. Jongin wants to argue, but a hand is suddenly offered to him. "But I hope I didn't mess up too much that I can still call you my friend."

  
Jongin bypasses the hand entirely and goes straight for a hug. He still feels the same warmth but it's a different intent now. They're not taking anything from each other anymore. They're both contented. They're both where they needed to be.

 

"I missed you." Jongin couldn't help but say. Kyungsoo laughs against him.

  
"You too."

* * *

 

 

 

  
  
  
**TO RUN**  
  


 

Clear skies and huge waves, a pleasant breeze kissing pale cheeks and seagulls in the air, salty water lapping the shore in a gentle manner, like that of a lover. Only in Los Angeles. Past the boardwalk and the greenery, past the clear glass windows and wooden cladding, underneath white bed sheets, two bare bodies lay against each other, breathing almost in sync, heartbeats just a fraction of a second mismatched.

 

Kyungsoo blinks a few times, tilting his head up to squint at the window and groaning because everything is too bright.

 

On instinct, he looks up at the wall clock somewhere to his right, and smiles, amused as he turns back to the man still sleeping beside him.

 

“Jongin…,” he croons, laughing when the aforementioned man merely garbles some unintelligible words, a cheek mushed against the pillow and hair a bird’s nest. “Love, wake up. You have a meeting with your contractor today.”

 

Jongin groans, hand sliding up Kyungsoo’s arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps with his touch. “No.” he croaks, eyes still closed. “I’m not leaving this bed.”

 

“But Jongin, this meeting has been scheduled since the beginning of time.” Kyungsoo argues in a playful manner, tangling his legs with the younger’s under the bed sheets, bodies pressed together.

 

Jongin scoffs and rolls over, pulling Kyungsoo on top of him in the process. “You’re over-reacting and I’m too tired Soo. I haven’t had enough sleep this week.”

 

Kyungsoo frowns. It’s been almost three years since they’d run away to LA, left behind everything and everyone they knew to start a life together in a place where they would face less criticisms for what they felt for each other, for what they can’t help. Jongin had to start from scratch, rebuilding his name and eventually landing large scale projects like the genius he is. Kyungsoo had chosen to go low-key, teaching acting and music in a high-paying university. They stay in touch with their loved ones, had laughed in amusement when they heard of the outrage in Korea at the sudden disappearance of everyone’s favorite actor; Do Kyungsoo.

 

“It’s not professional to cancel a meeting that’s been scheduled two months beforehand Jongin. Wake up.” He tries to kick the younger out of the bed, but Jongin only turns him around, his back pressed against the younger’s front. No sweat.

 

“Jongin!”

 

“Shhh…you’re disturbing the peace.”

 

“Get up and get to work.”

 

“I’m still sore.” Jongin whines, breath fanning against Kyungsoo’s ear. It tickles.

 

“It’s your fault, you got too greedy last night.” Kyungsoo protests, but he doesn’t remove Jongin’s arms around him, only giving one of the younger’s forearms a weak pinch. “I’m sore too and look at me.”

 

“It’s Sunday and it’s your _day off,_ you have nothing to do but take care of the kids.”

 

“ _Jongin_.”

 

The tanned male groans, snuggling closer, nose buried in Kyungsoo’s jet black hair. “Fine.” He concedes but he does nothing to stand up and get ready. “Five more minutes Soo.” He begs, voice muffled.

 

“Fine. _Five._ ” Kyungsoo replies in a stern tone, staring at the wall clock across him. He cracks the smallest of smiles when Jongin kisses the crook of his neck and slots his chin there. He can already imagine the pout on the younger’s face, the creases from where his cheek lay on the pillow.

 

“You make me feel like you want to get rid of me as soon as you can.”

 

Kyungsoo scoffs because this conversation is all too familiar. _Five fucking years together_ , and he still has to deal with Jongin’s doubts and insecurities, as well as his occasional outbursts of childishness. “Stop being silly,”Kyungsoo turns around to face the younger, and something gets stuck in his throat when he sees the sincerity in Jongin’s eyes, the kicked puppy look that serves as a cue for his chest to clench painfully. “Would I be here if I wanted to get rid of you?”

 

“No.” Jongin smiles, drinking in the sight of Kyungsoo likes this. Waking up next to the elder in the mornings is something he’s been doing for the past three years, and yet he still can’t get enough of it, of Kyungsoo’s sleepy eyes and messy hair, of the soft look he always has when they have one of these cheesy pillow talks. “You don’t regret it, do you? Running away with me?”

 

“No.” Kyungsoo shakes his head, smiling. “I’m glad.”

 

Jongin pulls him close and wraps him up in a cozy embrace, tracing invisible patterns on his skin. It’s warm, comfortable, familiar.

 

_Home._

 

“Me too.”

* * *

 

 

 

  
  
  
**TO THE HUNTERS**  
  


 

They decide to meet in a low key coffee shop. A quiet, quaint place that offers solace to university students just around the block. Kyungsoo, is clad in all black, black sweater, black pants, and a cap on his head to keep his appearance discreet, face hidden by the shadow it casts.

 

When he sees the younger, a sharp inhale fills his lungs with something like fresh air. Because months of separation hasn’t changed the effect Jongin’s always had on him, and he wishes, he wishes that all those falling stars and stray lashes, all those longings become invalid and catalyze here instead.

 

He wishes Jongin is still as inlove with him as he had been five months ago.

 

“Jongin?” he says in a timid tone, sliding in to the seat across the tanned male’s.

 

Jongin looks up, the cappuccino in his hand forgotten. Kyungsoo revels in the way Jongin’s eyes wander over his face, inspecting every pore and inch of skin, checking if he’s ever been hurt. “Kyungsoo, are you feeling well already?”

 

“Yes, yes I’m fine. Don’t you worry…”

 

There is a beat of silence, the smell of crushed beans and cocoa wafting in the air, the faint sound of easy chatter and tinkling china faded in the background. There is a palpable sort of tension in the atmosphere, as well as something else entirely, inundated with unspoken words and questions held back behind closed lips.

 

It is Jongin who breaks it.

 

“I miss you…,” he starts, looking down at his hands, fidgeting, like he always does when he’s nervous and uncertain. “I still…love you.” When Jongin says it, the tail end of his sentence lilts up a little, so that it sounds like a question.

 

Kyungsoo knows what it means, years of friendship, and two years of dating, has taught him enough what the spaces between Jongin words, what his tone and unspoken phrases, really means. And yet, he’s still surprised, that the younger would still take him, despite everything.

 

It makes tears well up in Kyungsoo’s eyes, makes the air leave his lungs in pure relief. “Hey…” Jongin looks up, “I missed you too…”

 

 

  
\--

 

They pass through the back door of the shop, thanking the kind looking owner before walking down the smelly, dank alleyway. It is dark, and cold, the chill in the air evident and unavoidable, and yet, Kyungsoo has never been happier. Being with Jongin again felt like having a heavy burden taken off his shoulders, felt like heaven, chocolate—vanilla—sweet.

 

Jongin is all smiles. He can’t help glancing ever so often at the actor, can’t help the look of pure adoration in his eyes, the way his face softens into something gentle, something that can only be influenced by the strongest of affections—a dead giveaway. They have shared a lot kisses on their way out, because Jongin just couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t stop giving Kyungsoo little pecks here, and here, and there and he wonders if he should back up Kyungsoo against the brick wall and go for another kiss.

 

Those five months they’d been separated—he’d been so _deprived_.

 

His smile drops though when Kyungsoo freezes at the sight of something ahead of them, the hand around his own tightening.

 

_Click. Click._

 

Jongin knows what it is before he even turns to look. Up ahead, are a bunch of Paparazzi, all bearing heavy, bulky, cameras pointed at their direction, clicking away. Slowly, he turns to Kyungsoo, who has become pale and frozen, eyes so wide in shock and fear. “Soo?” Jongin asks softly, trying to tug his hand out of the tight grip Kyungsoo has it in.

 

Perhaps they could pass it off as them having closure, as them officially breaking it off, but Kyungsoo only spares him one glance. “Jongin,” he says calmly, although the look in his eyes is anything but calm. “ _Run_.”

 

  
\--

 

Jongin shifts gear and spares the rearview mirror a glance. There are currently two vans full of Paparazzi after them, careening through the highways at dangerous speeds, hitting 70mph, then 80 and pushing it higher with each second Kyungsoo and Jongin manage to evade them.

 

Jongin makes a sharp turn around a quiet looking neighborhood, sweat beading his forehead as he tries to prevent them from skidding, what with November’s characteristic slick roads and wet asphalt, the vans still after them.

 

“How the hell did they find out?” he asks.

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head, a palm on the dashboard when he turns. His hands are clammy, stomach churning in knots, throat clogged up with fear. “I don’t know.” He croaks, turning back to face the road and fishing out his phone out of his pocket with a little difficulty, what with his shaking hands.

 

Like all the times he’s caught in some sort of trouble or emergency, he dials his manager’s number.

 

“Kyungsoo?” Junmyeon’s sleepy voice filters through the speaker and Kyungsoo feels sorry for bothering the elder on his— _their_ , only day off. “Why are you calling? It’s your day off, I thought you didn’t want to—“

 

“Junmyeon…” Kyungsoo’s tone cuts off the other entirely. He’s always had an incredible talent in sensing when Kyungsoo needed help, when Kyungsoo was in trouble. “Junmyeon…they’re—they’re after us—“

 

“Soo, calm down, baby.” Jongin’s tells him, tangling their fingers together and squeezing his hand in reassurance. The gesture makes Kyungsoo breathe a little easier, his heartbeat a little slower, although the chill that runs up his spine whenever he remembers that Jongin is here, that Jongin will take the hit if the Paparazzi manages to catch them, is something he can’t prevent.

 

Junmyeon is quiet on the other end of the line.

 

“Junmyeon. They’ve caught us. They’re following us. Please—“

 

“Where are you right now?” the elder asks in an urgent tone.

 

Kyungsoo scans their surroundings with frantic eyes. He isn’t privy to the streets and corners they’ve chosen to turn to. He and Jongin had agreed to meet up in a place a little over the outskirts of Seoul, after all.

 

“I—I don’t know. But we’re headed back to Seoul.”

 

"Put him on speaker.” Jongin murmurs soothingly, eyes sharp as they flit from the rearview mirror to the road ahead. Kyungsoo follows the request.

 

“—me any landmark. Anything. I’ll bring some staff and security with me and meet you there.” Junmyeon’s voice crackles over the speaker.

 

“We’re headed for Soo’s house. Can you meet us in there? We’ll arrive in ten minutes. Fifteen tops.”

 

Kyungsoo takes a moment to admire how Jongin manages to be levelheaded during times when he himself can’t. He squeezes the younger’s hand, a small _thank you_ for simply existing, gasping when he sees a van keeping up with them at his side of the car, flashes coming fast as the shutter speeds through pictures of them.

 

The Paparazzi mouths something at him, and he has an awful feeling that it is something along the lines of ‘C’mon Kyungsoo, spare us a picture.’

 

It makes him feel sick.

 

Jongin takes a hard left and steps on the gas, avoids being overtaken by zigzagging past curbs and shops, past small street vendors thriving during the night. Kyungsoo holds on, plastered against his seat because he’s never been a fan of manic driving, even though he knows Jongin’s only doing this to evade capture.

 

 _Evade capture._ It sounds funny, even in Kyungsoo’s head.

 

“Can’t they piss off?” Jongin hisses when another van joins the chase and sidles up to their car on his side. He turns another sharp corner, tires squealing in protest as he speeds through an intersection, going for the overpass.

 

“Jongin, be careful!” Kyungsoo warns him as one van attempts to overtake them.

 

Jongin stomps on the gas just a little more, and Kyungsoo grips the younger’s right shoulder, trying to keep them from pitching forward to certain death with the force of their speed, trying to keep himself from being more of the nervous wreck he already is.

 

 They zip through the highway, Jongin sighing in relief when they reach the overpass and one van is forced to fall back.

 

Now, there’s only one trying to overtake them.

 

“Fucking piss off.” Jongin says through gritted teeth as a pudgy looking man rolls down his window and starts taking pictures of them, grin malicious. “Soo, cover your face. Don’t let them see you. It’s okay.” He orders. Kyungsoo grabs Jongin’s jacket from the backseat to comply.

 

A cold chill runs up Kyungsoo’s spine when the media van starts honking like crazy, eyes growing owlish and stomach lurching when he sees the big truck ahead, about to crush the van that had strayed from their lane, coming to greet incoming cars instead.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t have the time to organize his thoughts. He only registers that there is no way for both the van and truck to avoid the collision unless one dove off the overpass or…

 

…and suddenly, there are arms wrapping around him, a hand on the back of his head as he sees the van get crushed in between their car and the truck. He feels the force of it make their car soar in the air, and he vaguely hears Jongin whisper _‘Hold on Soo, you got this,’_ in a firm voice _over and over_ before they land on the road twenty meters below the overpass, the drop making their bones pop, blood gush through sustained wounds.

 

The last thing Kyungsoo remembers seeing is Jongin staring back at him with all the adoration in the world, a tired smile on his lips, before everything fades to black.

 

 

  
\--

 

Kyungsoo steps out of his car and squints up at the sky, wind whipping his hair back despite his valiant efforts at making it stay put. He smiles a little, seeing his loved one after two weeks was like a breath of fresh air for Kyungsoo, because even after fifty years, nothing much has changed.

 

Except that there aren’t any eye smiles and tanned skin to greet him anymore. No dentist-white grin that acts like a soothing balm to his aching heart when his smile turns sad.

 

There is only polished marble and letters engraved on granite, a cold, impersonal surface to reflect the blue skies above.

 

Kyungsoo walks towards the tombstone, a hand gripping a bunch of white roses while the other traces the only scar left from the accident fifty years ago. He kneels down and places them beside the wilted flowers he’d left two weeks before, a palm on the marble tiles—slightly wet from morning dew.

 

“Hello, Jongin. It’s me again.” He whispers.

 

He convinces himself that he doesn't imagine the way the wind shifts, the way the dried up grass around Jongin’s grave seem to bloom and turn a healthy shade of green again. Perhaps, in the afterlife, Jongin loves him still, perhaps in the afterlife, his seal-like laugh can still be heard, deep voice reverberating through white walls—what Kyungsoo imagines to be heaven.

 

Because Jongin should be in heaven. For how could he not be? When the last act he’d done on Earth was to save Kyungsoo?

 

There are no more tears, no more sadness, only the dull ache of what could have been, perhaps because he knew that Jongin would not allow him to mourn for years and years, or maybe because he has nothing left to shed, body too tired and dried up to give and give _and give_.

 

Kyungsoo leaves after kissing Jongin’s tombstone, feeling warm despite the strong wind, as if he were still wrapped up in Kim Jongin’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> co-written with mashie, who still won't give me here ao3 account. much love to those who took the time to read this x


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